


you, matsukawa and the end of the world

by iwasangel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Background Relationships, Canon Related, Canon Universe, Dead People, Death, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Ghosts, Gothic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Occult, Paranormal, Pining, Psychic Abilities, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Swearing, Talking To Dead People, Threats of Violence, Wakes & Funerals, Witchcraft, dead bodies, minor age gape, witch stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasangel/pseuds/iwasangel
Summary: Where Matsukawa Issei has been both blessed and cursed with the ability to speak to the dead, stringing you along to try and stop the end of the world at the same time.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	1. people who talk to ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely only based on that one thing Furudate said about Matsukawa and that he could be the protagonist of his own manga. It’s also because I love him. Also I don't really know how funerals work so bare with me. This hasn't been edited and idk how often updates are going to be.

Ever since Matsukawa Issei was young, he knew he was different. Different in the scene that he could see people that weren’t really there and hear voices that also weren’t really there. The first time he realized he could do this when a few short days after his grandmother passed away and he was only about five. 

He sat on the couch, hazily watching the television when he felt the weight of the couch shift. Turning his head, he was surprised to see his grandmother, mostly because his mother told him that she was going somewhere and that she wasn’t coming back. 

Matsukawa’s first reaction wasn’t fear but more like a comforting blanket. His grandmother smiled at him warmly and he couldn’t help but raise a brow, “Obaasan, what’re you doing here?” She only chuckled, her smile widening. Matsukawa frowned, “I thought we weren’t going to see you again.” 

His mother stepped into the living room, a puzzled look on her own face as she watched her young son seemingly talk to no one. 

“Issei, who’re you talking to?” She questioned as Matsukawa grunted like it was obvious. He wasn’t aware that he was the only one seeing his grandmother. The boy turned back to his grandmother, still waiting on his answer. 

_I needed to let you know that I was okay,_ he could hear her voice, clear as day and smooth as honey yet her lips didn’t move. Matsukawa scratched the top of his head, unaware of the close to horrified look on his mother’s face. 

_Can you let them know, Issei?_ His grandmother asked of him and he nodded, taking this take very seriously. He heard her laughter for the last time as in a blink she had disappeared into thin air. 

Nonchalantly, he looked at his mother, who’s wide eyes were indications that she had no clue what was going on. All he could do was fulfill his grandmother’s wish: “Obaasan says she’s okay now.” 

His mother’s face paled and in reasonable disbelief. She waited for him to further explain but Matsukawa only averted his gaze back to the cartoons playing on the screen. 

That wouldn’t be the last time, though, that Matsukawa Issei would speak to the dead.

𓇽

For the longest time he thought he was the only one like him, until he noticed you, hazily standing outside the funeral home he worked at. You were standing there, shifting your weight between your two legs, squirting at the building. 

Matsukawa remembered that day, he’d asked you if you were here for a visitation and at the sound of his voice, you seemed to have snapped out of his trance. He could see how terrified you looked and brought you inside, offering you a cup of tea. 

There wasn’t supposed to be a family coming, so how did you end up there? He wondered, letting you try to piece out the mystery at the same time. 

“Something… just compelled me to come here. I don’t know how to explain it, it was like a-a voice was telling me to find this place.” Matsukawa remembered the look you gave him, on the verge of tears because trying to brush things off, “no, wait that makes me sound crazy, I promise I didn’t run away from a nuthouse.” You laughed which made Matstukawa grin but not for the reasons you thought. 

He’d finally found someone like him. 

Matsukawa would come to describe the world of psychics to you, finally bringing you to understand what those voices in your head were. At first, it frightened you, the idea of life after death rattled your bones but as you came to stay with Matsukawa you learned that things weren’t that bad. 

Ghosts often left messages for their loved ones or had unfinished business in the world of the living. Matsukawa had done a good job at explaining that it was psychic’s job to take care of that business. 

The idea itself was sweet and purposeful but people never stopped dying and death didn’t discriminate against age. 

Matsukawa had offered to let you live at the funeral home along with him, to better help you understand these paranormal abilities and although for some it would’ve seemed naive, it was better than the last situation you found yourself in. Living at home also came with the burden of watching families grieve. 

“You never really get used, do you?” Matsukawa whispered to you. The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder in the back of the viewing room. You hummed and nodded, turning your attention to today’s family. 

Pressing your lips together, you saw a young boy, tugging at his parent’s sleeve, you could hear his voice yelling, _mommy, why is everyone crying? Why can’t you see me? Daddy, Mommy?_ You tried your best not to scream, to let the young boy know you could see him, to reassure him that he was going to be alright. 

“I don't think anyone could.” You replied, looked down at your feet. The black dress flowing down your legs. Matsukawa looked down at his watch and sighed again with a heavy heart. 

“Do you want to talk to the kid?” He asked in a hushed voice, you nodded as Matsukawa began making his way towards the living family. For a brief second, you caught eyes with the ghost of the boy and you could feel your heart drop. 

Nodding again, the boy lit up realizing someone could see him. He ran away from his mother and father and grabbed onto your arm. You could feel a chill run up your spine, locking eyes with him again. 

_What’s going on, Miss?_ His voice echoed through your hands as you glimpsed back up at Matsukawa consulting the family because getting ready to take the body for cremation. 

“How about we talk outside, yeah?” He shifted his grip from your wrist to his hand, letting you walk him out of the viewing room and into the front of the funeral home where birds chirped and the sun shone down. There was a bench situated right in front of the door and you guided the boy to sit with you. 

“It’s Tadashi, right?” He nodded. “Hm, well do you remember what happened to you? You were very sick.” 

_There were so many tubes in my arm._ Tadashi recalled, _it made me really sad that I wasn’t getting better._ You brushed your hand over the top of his head, his hair felt so soft that for a second you forgot you were speaking to a ghost. 

Tadashi leaned closer to you, resting his head against your chest as he continued, _everything hurt, I remember it hurt to even move. But now nothing hurts, why doesn’t anything hurt anymore, Miss?_

“Well,” you sighed, it was always difficult to break it to a spirit that they were dead, let alone a child. “Everybody has time on earth, and you just ate yours up quicker than everyone else’s. And when you leave, all that pain stays on Earth.” Tadashi nodded, bringing his small arms around you for a hug. You could feel the loving aura emanating on him. 

_Is that also why Mommy and Daddy can’t hear me? Or see me?_ You nodded again, cradling his head. Tadashi pulled back, _will you give my mommy one last hug... from me?_

“Yeah, I think I can do that,” you mused with a small smile on your face, “let’s go give your mommy a hug.” He held onto your hand tightly as you stood up together. The busy crowd of people who’d gathered for his wake were somberly conversing as the service had just ended moments ago. 

You saw Matsukawa chatting with Tadashi’s parents by the casket, his mother was visibly shaking, stains of mascara coming smearing onto her handkerchief. You felt Tadashi tighten his grip even more at the sight of his mother in tears. 

“Hello Mrs. Tanahashi, Mr. Tanahasi,” you greeted them with a bow. You had to let go of Tadashi’s hand, “I’m l/n y/n, an intern.” You gulped a bit. It was always awkward to hug the families but as you could feel Tadashi’s firm gaze on you, you had no other choice. 

Leaning forward, you brought Mrs. Tanahashi into a hug, surprised at her immediate embrace. She didn’t jump, or push you off but fully accepted your hug. Almost as if she could scene the presents of her son. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, truly.” She pressed your face onto your shoulder, crying out her answer. Saying how much of a sweet boy Tadashi was and how she would miss him for the rest of her life. 

Tadashi’s ghost stood over his coffin, observing his dead body before smiling; _thank you._ He noticed Matsukawa, joyous over the fact that someone else could see him. He sent Matsukawa a nod, signalling it was finally okay for him to move on. 

Just as you pulled away from the grieving mother, Tadashi shimmered away into nothing but thin air. Matsukawa now stood near you, calmly clearing his throat to gain their attention. 

“The cremation process will start soon, we’ll notify you when the ashes are ready.” Tadashi’s parents nodded, slowly filing out of the room with their heads hung low. 

The room was finally empty. Tadashi’s casket had been moved to the cremation chamber and now it was only you and Matsukawa sitting alone. The silence was eerie and hard to break as you kept thinking over the day's events. 

You dropped your head in your hands, shaking your head with an exhausted and drained laugh. 

“Why does it have to be so complicated, Matsukawa-san?” You asked honestly, looking at him as he drank from a Styrofoam cup provided at the service. He swished the water around his mouth before answering; 

“Issei.” That’s what he’d reminded you to call him. “And things are never really straight forward, are they?” 

“But why do _we_ have this task of helping the dead?” You heard your voice crack, thinking back to Mrs. Tanahashi and the tears that were permanently stained on her cheeks. 

After reading over Tadashi’s profile, he was terminally ill-- they would’ve been expecting his death, yet they were so severely heartbroken. It was a pain that you could only sympathize with. 

“I guess it’s because everyone has their own special purpose, right?” He looked down at his feet, a stern look on his face only lasting a minute before he broke out in a small grin, “some people are built to be professional athletes, others are made to lead those athletes and then there’s people like us-- people who talk to ghosts.”


	2. pentagram in the embalming room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so there is a dead body mentioned here! because yeah... it's a funeral home so this is your trigger warning.

The morning after Tadashi Tanahashi’s wake you couldn’t help but fall into a deep slumber, snoozing your alarm and rolling over in bed with a frown. Funerals were never easy and you had to give props to Matsukawa who always seem to be in a cheery mood. 

At some point, you’d managed to get yourself out of your room, reader and dressed for a day of lounging around. There weren’t any services or burials today, it was a good thing in your opinion. Death was never fun to be surrounded by. 

The kitchen was filled with the smell of warm coffee and slightly burnt toast. It was a small kitchen, the cabinets were a shade of emerald green with adorning white marble counter top that created a pop in the room. There were a few dirty glasses in the sink and the island had been cleaned from any other dishes. What caught your attention, though was a small bright post-it note attached to the fridge. 

_ Meet me in the embalming room when you can -Issei  _

Your eyebrows kit together as you read over the note, what could he need you in the embalming room for? It had never been somewhere you’d seeked out before. Located at the east end of the funeral home, down in the basement, it was almost too nerve racking to go down there. 

The home itself was divided in two halves; the business portion and the other portion where Matsukawa lived. He’d explained that the previous owner was his mentor and he’d left the funeral home to him after he passed. The business side had the viewing room, the caskets and urn showing room and of course the embalming room hidden away in the basement. You gulped, in your honest opinion you would rather spend more time in the living house quarters of the funeral home. 

You opened the door to the basement, seeing a poorly lit and narrow staircase that only led to another door. Hearing your footsteps creak as you stepped onto the wooden stairs, the second door had caution signs, warning of chemicals after that point. 

Pushinging it open, slowly, you were met with the sight of Matsukawa in a white poly laminated scrubs, black rubber gloves over his hands and a mask covering his mouth. 

Telling by the lines forming around his eyes, you could see he was smiling, placing his hands on his hips as he greeted you. 

“Well good morning,” he swiftly moved, causing you to fully take in the embalming room for the first time. 

Bright fluorescent lights illuminated the room, an ugly square tile pattern on the floor, off white cabinets and a sterile smell that seemed to be emerging from the nauseous green walls. You saw the chemicals littering the counter tops, trying to avoid the elephant for as long as you could, until it was impossible to not notice. In the middle of the room were two metal tables, fit for embalming bodies. Laying on one was a dead body. 

By the looks of it it was a man in his late thirties, a bit of a pot belly, the lower half of his torso was covered up, his hair was beginning to bald and overall he was sickly pale. You almost laughed, what else did you expect from a dead body? 

“Here put this on,” Matsukawa ordered, hanging you a mask so as to not breath in the embalming fumes. You weren't too sure of the process, Matsukawa had spared you from that long and tedious lecture but you were smart enough to know they weren’t the types of chemicals you’d want to breath in. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, carefully bringing the mask to your face and bringing the straps over your ears. Taking a step closer, you took a deep breath, “what did you need me down here for?” You were trying your best not to sound irritated with him, but seeing half naked dead bodies wasn’t your cup of tea. 

Matsukawa straightened out his back, nodding as he was reminded of what was happening. He took a step towards the body, gesturing with his hand that it was alright for you to approach. 

“I first noticed it when I was disinfecting the body,” you felt your stomach churn at the idea, “here, look at this. Do you know what this is?” You watched carefully as he flipped over the man’s forearm to reveal a tattoo inked in black. 

From the tone of Matsukawa’s voice you could tell that he knew what he was but he wanted you to figure it out for yourself. You squinted at the symbol, it was familiar yet you couldn’t put your tongue on it. Trying to rack your brain, it finally came to mind. 

“Isn’t that… a pentagram?” You looked over at Matsukawa to watch him for his reaction and he nodded, tracing his finger over the man’s tattoo. Tattoos in Japan were only starting to become less of a taboo but even less common was the practice of Christianity. “But isn't a pentagram a symbol for the Christian devil?” 

“That’s right,” Matsukawa chimed, placing the man’s hand back how and crossing his arms over his chest. “Religion is another one of those funny things. None of them are wrong but none of them are really right.” 

Although Matsukawa was like a mentor, he was pretty bad at giving analogies as he often tried to work them to come off as a wise figure. You tapped your chin, trying to put together what he was explaining. 

“So what? Does that mean all those devils are… real?” The skepticism in your voice was masking the fact you didn’t want to know the truth. Ghosts, as you’d come to learn were friendly, only trying to get their last message across. Demons on the other hand were known as malicious, causing you to bite your lip in fear of whatever might lurk in the dark. 

“It does,” Matsukawa looked down at his feet, he let go of a deep sigh hoping to change the path of the conversation. “Remember what I told you about honing in on paranormal frequencies?” 

You nodded holding your hands behind your back and subconsciously stepping away from the embalmed body. 

“Good,” he praised, “now what I need you to try and do is tune into this man’s frequency and see if anything shows up.” Like routine, you nodded, fluttering your eyes closed, slowing your breathing. 

The room was always quiet but now you were able to ignore any humming of the vents or sounds of the house settling as you cleared your mind. The silence wasn’t for long, though, as you could hear a slight ringing in your ear. Matsukawa had taught you this technique on your third night with him. Usually, ghosts and spirits would appear on their own but if you wanted to really draw them out from the other side, you’d have to hone them like this. 

You focused on the man who was lying on the table. His facial features engraving behind your eyelids as you tried to reach for his soul. It was a tiring process as you could feel your body begin to shift around, a dizzy spell starting to fall over you. Opening your eyes back up and snapping your neck in Matsukawa’s direction, it was like hitting a brick wall-- a dead end. 

“I-I couldn’t reach him, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t really bring yourself to look at him after your apology. It was frustrating to you that you weren’t able to get these techniques as easily. These psychic abilities weren’t coming to you as natural as you would’ve liked. 

“No, don’t be sorry, even I couldn’t contact his spirit.” He reassured you before his facial expression faltered, “which isn’t really good for us.” 

You raised an eyebrow and Matsukawa remained silent, thinking about something to great concern. You shifted to look at you, finally coming to a decision. 

“You should head back up. I’ll dress the body and then I’ll fill you in,” he promised and for the last time you nodded before peeling off the mask and discarding it. Watching him in the corner of your eye, you slipped out of the embalming room and back up into the kitchen to put yourself a light breakfast. 

𓇽

Another part of the house that you never really saw was Matsukawa’s office. You were never curious enough to bother looking and you were satisfied with the few glimpses you got when he went in and out. 

Which made this your first time actually inside it. It was a typical office, a sturdy desk, a bookshelf stretching across the height and length of one wall along with additional collected knickknacks. What was most impressive was a glass case hanging on the wall was a samurai sword, most likely from the Koto era. You didn’t get a good chance to look at it as Matsukawa slammed an ancient looking book onto the desk. 

He opened it up, flipping through the pages. You had no idea how old the book was, the pages looked like they’d been soaked in a tea bag, the thin paper close to ripping. You noticed small drawings and diagrams until Matsuakwa finally came to a halt. 

You leaned over the desk to see what page he’d stopped at and watched as his finger pointed to a pentagram drawn at the top corner of the page. 

“Here we go.” He sighed before he began reading what the book said, “those who have sold their souls to any form of devil will be difficult to contact without a physical medium, their souls can also be lost in the afterlife.” 

With concerned eyes, you looked at him. “What is that supposed to mean?” Matsukawa sighed, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a bit in the process. 

“A physical medium? Well it’s a psychic that reaches spirits and lets them use their body to communicate their message.” He paused, seeing from your facial expressions that that wasn’t what you were confused by. 

“Why would someone sell their soul?” Matsukawa rephrased, pressing his lips together taking a minute to word his next response. “Well, fame, fortune…” He dragged out his thoughts and it was clear there was something else. 

“It can’t be,” he muttered under his breath, his eyebrows frowned as his face fell. It was unusual to see Matsukawa with such a scowl, it was enough to make your skin crawl. 

He rubbed his temple together, sitting down at his desk chair as you continued to stand over him. You intertwined your fingers together, waiting for an answer from him. Matsukawa sat back in his seat, once against running a hand through his hair. 

“Let’s go outside. I need a smoke.” He admitted, you played with your fingers in anticipation with what else he had to say. He abruptly stood up, making his way to the door, assuming you were trailing behind him. 

As Matsukawa swung the front door open, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a black lighter from his back pocket. The wrinkles on his forehead that were caused by frustration seemed out of place, especially for Matsukawa. 

You took a seat on the porch swing, keeping your eyes on the tall man as he cupped his calloused hands over the cigarette, protecting the small flame from going out with the slight wind. 

Tapping your finger against your thigh, you were patiently waiting for him to fill you in. The curiosity eating away at you the more Matsukawa seemed to be dragging out the subject. At the same time, he was always upfront and honest which made you think:  _ this must be something really serious.  _

“Y/n ,” he huffed, turning towards you, the butt of the cigarette glowing a fiery orange, “I think we’re in some real deep shit.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i know where this story is going, yes and no. but anyways i hope you enjoyed this cliffhanger-ish ending


	3. road trip to hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i don't really know how funeral homes work so i hope it's not too unrealistic bc i tried to do some research
> 
> also, sorry it's a bit shorter, promise next chapter will have more!

“Would you care to explain what the hell you mean by that?” You asked, open hands turning into fists, tired of being kept on the edge of your seat. Matsukawa held his serious expression, inhaling another breath of smoke before letting it out. 

With one quick movement, he put out the cigarette on the brick wall behind him. Dusting his hands off, he took a seat next to you. The two of you were so close that your thighs were touching. Matsukawa put his hands out in front of him in order to help him explain. 

“Before Seiichi passed,”  _ Seiichi, his old mentor,  _ you recalled, “he mentioned to me of a dream he had once and Seiichi’s dreams were almost always predictions of the future.” You watched as Matsukawa swallowed the lump in his throat, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to keep warm. 

“He told me: ‘Issei, when the dead bare marks of the devil, the gates of the afterlife have begun to crumble.’ Those were his exact words.” You looked at him with a bit of horror in your eyes. Nothing about that sounded pleasant at all. 

You fiddled with your fingers: “is it even possible for the gates of the afterlife to  _ crumble? _ ” There was a part of you that wanted Matsukawa to say no, to shake his head and tell you that he was just pulling your leg. But, by the stoic look on his face that you rarely saw, this was no joke. 

“If Seiichi-sensei saw it in a dream, there’s a good chance they  _ are  _ crumbling.” The two of you sat in dreaded silence, hopefully your mind could go numb and just ignore the severity of the situation. 

You shut your eyes, trying to think straight. So many questions were flying in and out of your head. Matsukawa’s words were almost an overload of information. _Was there anything you could do?_ _Is there anything you should do about this? Whose responsibility was it to stop these catastrophic events?_ You then felt his knee nudge yours, whether or not it was an accident you didn’t know. 

Opening them back up, he was staring at you, studying your own facial features with an intense look. He squinted towards you and as if he could read your mind he answered one of your many thoughts. 

“As psychics, we’re some of the only people who can see any spirits, including any type of paranormal being,” you could almost predict what Matsukawa was going to say next, “which also means it would be our job to stop this  _ doomsday.”  _

You felt frozen on that porch swing, nothing about what he just said sounded good. Or like something you _wanted_ to partake in. Psychic abilities were never something you wanted, heck you just wanted to live a normal life, be a normal person and blend into the rest of the society. Now, though, you’re on the brink of going into a supernatural battlefield. 

Matsukawa looked as if he felt the same way. He scratched the crook of his neck with a weary look. Yet it wasn’t long until he could somewhat shift the mood. He tapped along his knee, 

“y/n, if I were you, I’d start packing a bag, we have somewhere to go.” Your eyes widened and you made eye contact with Matsukawa as he began to grin, “and I’d suggest packing light.” He stood up first, looking over his shoulder checking to see when you’d get up. 

Realizing how serious he was, you shot up and nodded, rushing back into the funeral home. Things were moving so quickly in your mind, was this real? Where were you going? You hadn’t even bothered to ask. 

In less than thirty minutes you came out of your room with a backpacked crammed with essentials. Matsukawa came out of his room just a second after you, acknowledging you with a nod. 

“I’ve already made arrangements here, we should be gone three days minimum.” Your mouth was in an o shape, your brain still confused. You felt like everything was moving a pace too fast to comprehend but as Matsukawa walked across the hallway, you followed with an equally quick pace. 

He muttered a few incoherent things under his breath as he instructed you to grab a few things from the fridge, along with a handful of titles from the library in his office. You didn’t argue back, going off and filling a bag with fruit, small snacks and water bottles before heading into the office. 

Recalling the books that Matsukawa had told you to pick out, you carefully pulled them out of their place and put them into a separate backpack. Among those books was the same book the two of you had read through earlier. Taking a deep breath, you walked through the threshold of the funeral home and into the fresh air. 

Matsukawa was leaning against the truck used to transport bodies from the funeral home to the burial sites. With the keys in between his fingers and his arms crossed it almost seemed like the two of you were about to embark on a road trip. In a way, you were but this was no average trip. 

𓇽

You sat in the passenger seat, a folder in your lap as Matsukawa gripped the steering wheel, eyes set on the road ahead of him. It must’ve been around thirty minutes in the car but in your opinion it felt like longer. It was mid afternoon and the sky was a radiant blue, the only thing obscuring your view from the sun was the clouds that moved at a leisurely pace. 

Looking at the blind spot mirror, you caught a glimpse of the coffin that was secured in the backseat. You didn’t know when Matsukawa had found the time or strength to load up the body but you never bothered to ask. You cleared your throat, carefully opening the folder, giving a briefing of the man with the pentagram tattoo. 

Izumi Ryo was his name, he was thirty nine years old and wanted to be buried in a family plot in Tokyo. Apparently that’s where he lived and he was only in Sendai on business. The folder said he died of a heart attack. He didn’t have a significant other, nor kids nor siblings and his parents had already passed. 

“We’ll drop off the coffin at the funeral home in Tokyo where they’ll keep the body frozen.” He wasn’t phased by what he was saying, hell it was his job. You knew that any other person couldn’t have said that with such ease. Matsukawa continued, “his great aunt contacted me and in two days they’ll hold his funeral and burial.” 

You nodded along, looking out the window again, briefly listening in to the rest of the plan, “we’ll have to retrace his life. Find out why he really chose to sell his soul.” You felt your teeth grind against each in worry, your nails digging into the palm of your hand.  _ The gates of hell crumble,  _ rung through your head. 

Slowly turning to face Matsukawa again, you stopped before asking another question. You were too caught up in the image of him. Sure, you realized he was attractive since the day you stumbled into the funeral home but you had never truly processed it. 

His raven black was neat against his head in waves, or at least it was neat when he wasn’t anxiously raking his hands through it. His jaw was defined and you could see a bit of stubble that was starting to grow back. His eyes were glued to the road, as his large hands gracefully rotated the steering wheel to turn a corner. You caught your breath looking at it. 

Matsukawa also dressed extremely well. He was almost always fitted with freshly ironed black slacks, along with a matching black button up and he always kept his sleeves rolled up. The only time you saw him out of that uniform was on Saturdays. Obviously, you couldn’t compare him to how college aged guys dressed, no he was a few years older than you but it never showed. You also couldn’t compare the expensive cologne he wore to how guys your age smelt, which to sum it up was like a musty keg. 

“And where will we be staying until the funeral?” You unlocked your eyes from him, snapping your attention back at the road. You hoped that falling into that small daydream didn’t cause your cheeks to flush. 

Matsukawa grinned, the typical sleazy grin that he wore whenever he told an amusing joke. For a split second he took his focus off the road and onto you. 

“I may or may not know a guy.” You scrunch your nose at his voice, playfully rolling your eyes. 

“When you say it like that, it sounds like you’re trying to buy drugs.” You jested, making him chuckle, his laugh rich and full, once again making your heart stutter. Matsukawa shook his head, defending himself with a bit of a snicker, 

“no, no, he’s just a good friend from highschool, but I’m pretty sure he’d let us crash with him.” You caught the ‘ _ hopefully’  _ under his breath. “If not, hey we can stay at a hotel.” 

“Okay, but I was thinking,” you scratched the back of your neck, sketically wondering if it was the right idea to ask this question. Matsukawa flashed you a quick nod, and smile as he continued to jest; 

“that can’t be a good thing.” You shook your head with a giggle as he quieted down to let you continue with whatever thought was in your mind. 

“I don’t know if it’s my place to ask but…” you started to trail off before you were brought back to reality, “I know you mentioned your old mentor passing away, do you uh, do you ever try and contact him?” 

Matsukawa released a pent up sigh, making you sink down, fearing you asked something that should’ve remained in your head. He took one of his hands off the wheel and brought his fingers up to rub over his mouth and chin. 

“No, it’s alright,” he chims, catching you a bit off guard with his upbeat tone, “when he first passed, I did but I think enough time has gone by that I’ve just let his soul rest, y’know?” He shot you a friendly smile but deep down you felt like he was over compensating for something, maybe you did pour salt on a wound that wasn’t fully healed. 

You whispered “yeah,” before it was replaced with a yawn. It surprised you considering how much you slept in that morning, it made Matsukawa laugh as well. 

“Tired?” He raised an eyebrow, slowing down at a red light, you could already see the highway. You shrugged at his question. “Do you think you could pass me a water?” He pointed to the plastic bag with the snacks that sat at your feet. You reached down and passed him one, mentally scolding yourself for blushing when your hands grazed one another’s. 

Meltling back into the seat, you felt your eyelids become droopy. The car was moving at such a calming pace you could’ve easily drifted into slumber. You could hear the faint sounds of the radio in the background, playing some foriegn song. 

“Sleep if you need to, we won’t get to Tokyo for another four hours.” Matsukawa’s voice was soothing to listen to, and you hummed in response, finally shutting your eyes. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a deep sleep, your head falling against your palm, protecting you from the rough, jolting plastic of the car door. 

As he took another sip from the water bottle, Mastsukawa got a good look at your relaxed figure before letting out a deep sigh. He kept a steady speed, slowly lowering the volume of the music to be alone with his thoughts. 

He never wanted to have to drag someone else into his and Seiichi’s mess but yet here you were, eager to help, though you knew little about the situation that was going on. There was a small part of Matsukawa’s mind that didn’t want to believe they were really facing the threat of the gates of  _ hell  _ falling. Still, he knew it was time to believe it. 

What he didn’t feel bad about, was the tiny white lie he’d just told you. Matsukawa was in fact talking to Seiichi’s spirit. He didn’t even know why he felt the urge to lie, it wasn’t like you’d judge him. Yet, as he merged lanes and looked at you peacefully sleeping, maybe it was best to keep to himself about a few things. 

The most important thing to do now, though, was to get Izumi Ryo’s body to Tokyo and begin the investigation of his life. Or, more importantly, his cult affiliations while he was still alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so excited to write the next chapter hehehe anyways, i hope you guys liked this update.


	4. makki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot more dialogue this chapter, hope you guys like it.

When Matsukawa Issei was seventeen turning eighteen, he finally did something he’d been fearing for a long, long time. Learning about his psychic abilities had been a rocky road and his parents imposed strict rules that he was to keep it a secret. 

Although, it had been pounding against his head, that he needed to tell  _ someone, anyone.  _ He was tired of keeping it concealed, like a witch hunt would ensue if he let it slip. All his life he’d listened but now, he didn’t really care if they burned him at the steak. His abilities were beginning to become a burden too heavy to bear. 

The night was chilly, he had nothing but his thin volleyball jacket to protect him from the breeze but he was thankful for the ramen he’d just eaten, keeping his throat warm. On his way home, he looked over to his side where one Hanamaki Takahiro walked. 

With his hair a faded pink sticking out in every direction, they were quite a pair. It was hard to believe they’d been friends for the past three years.  _ If anyone is going to know,  _ he figured,  _ it’s gonna be Makki.  _

Matsukawa suggested they hang out at the playground before going in separate directions and Hanamaki, who was desperately trying to procrastinate his homework agreed. The two found themselves sitting on the swings, an empty silence filling the room. 

Looking up from where his feet were kicking up dirt, Matsukawa noticed an almost translucent figure standing at the edge of the part. It was too far to see any specific details but he knew it was the spirit of a young girl who’d gone missing from their town about a decade before Matsukawa had been born. He remembered that he started to see her spirit when he was ten. 

She never had anything to say to him, always insisting that her last wish was for her killer to finally pay for his crimes. Though, her case had run cold. Hell, they had never even found her body. He could feel her glare on him, letting out a sigh and twisting his head to look at Hanamaki. 

“There’s something you need to know,” he blurted out, wanting to slap a hand over his mouth instantly. Hanamaki gave him a puzzled look, holding onto the cold mental chains attached to the swing. He didn’t pry, waiting for Matsukawa to explain himself. 

“I don’t know where to begin.” He admitted with a groan, burying his head in his hands. Peeking through his fingers, he could still see the dead girl’s ghost staring him down, like she was beckoning him to spill his guts. 

Matsukawa sat up with a sigh, pulling his cheeks down, giving his eyes a creepy look. There was a familiar build up of butterflies in his stomach, he’d never been so nervous; not during final exams, not when he confessed to his grade school crush and not even during their matches against Shiratorizawa. 

“Okay, so you know that movie? With the kid?” He began, still trying to phrase his words before he spoke. His incomplete sentence caused Hanamaki to poke and a tease just a bit. 

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Mattsun.” A small chuckle left the pink haired boy’s mouth, as he looked up at the night sky. In all reality, he had no idea where his friend was going with this. 

“Would you quit it, I’m getting there.” Matsukawa huffed, a tiny bit irritated, “the one where the kid’s all like  _ I see dead people  _ and shit?” Hanamaki slowly looked into the other boy’s eyes, seeing them slightly glassing over, filled with worry. 

He nodded, not fully remembering the plot of the movie but getting the gist of it. Matsukawa let out another sigh, followed with a bit of awkward laughter as he rubbed his tired eyes. 

“It’s gonna sound so fucking stupid,” it felt like he was dragging out the truth that he so desperately wanted to let off his chest. “But I  _ can  _ see dead people.”

Hanamaki was hesitant to burst out into tears, he’d never seen Matsukawa so serious, on the verge of tears even. He gulped, letting his mind soak in this information. He kicked up a bit of dirt that sits in the grass-less section underneath the swings. 

“Okay. I believe you.” 

“Really?” Matsukawa jumped, his head sharply looking over to scan Hanamaki for any dishonest expressions. Hanamaki only stared at him with a locked jaw and it was clear he was far from laughing. He sent the ravenette boy a silent nod. 

A wave of relief washed over him, it was something Matsukawa had been craving for ages. His fingers trembled lightly, half from the cold and half from the build up anxiety. He ran them through his short curls, tugging on the roots slightly. 

“Does that mean you can see ghosts ‘n stuff?” Hanamaki wondered while starting to move back and forward, trying to get the swing working. Matsukawa brought his line of sight back up, seeing once again the unnamed ghost girl in the distance. He bobs his head at his friend’s question. 

“Are there any here? Like, right now?” There’s a hint of excitement in Hanamaki’s voice but as he studies Matsukawa closer, all he sees is the middle blocker staring straight at nothing at the other end of the park. He shudders, giving him an answer. 

“It’s all really complicated,” Matsukwa confessed, scratching the back of his neck, “but I think I found someone who can help. He says he’ll take me under his wing.” Hanamaki doesn’t ask about the idea of other psychics existing. 

“Well, if you ever need anything, you can count on me.” Hanamaki expressed with a hand on his chest. Matsukawa grinned at the statement as the two brought out their hands to give it a firm shake. 

𓇽

With a solid knock, Mastukawa brings his fist to the apartment door numerous times. You watched him with a peaked interest,  _ had he even told his friend that the two of you were coming?  _ You stood behind him, waiting and praying that someone would answer. 

“I swear Toma, I paid the full rent!” A masculine voice shouted, making you jump just a tiny bit. Holding your hands in front of you neatly, you watched as the door swung open. 

Standing there, a man, just about a foot shorter than Mastukawa stood. Dressed in an unbuttoned pizza delivery uniform and a black t-shirt underneath. His hair was a dark pink colour, cut into bangs and frizzy like he’d just woken up from a nap. 

There was a look of disbelief on his face, taking in Matsukawa as he towered the door frame. It was clear he hadn’t noticed you yet as his mouth hung open. 

“Mattsun?” He almost gasped. You once again raised your eyebrows, surprised by the playful nickname. Matsukawa only laughed, 

“surprise!” Though the other man’s lips frowned, his arms crossed his chest and he gave a look that said ‘ _ you have three seconds to explain yourself.’  _ “We need somewhere to stay.” 

It’s then that he stepped aside and revealed you. To which the other man narrowed his eyes before snapping his attention back at Matsukawa. 

“This isn’t a honeymoon suite y’know?” He dropped his arms and brought them to a more scolding hand-on-hips position. Both you and Matsukawa interjected, both defending yourselves with the same statement: “we’re not a couple.” 

“Still,” he sighed, looking back into his apartment, “there probably isn’t enough space for the two of you, not to mention I can’t make any noise.” He grumbled something about his landlord being a  _ son of a bitch.  _

“Look Makki,” Matsukawa interjected, “we’ll only be here to sleep and we won’t make any noise. Besides, we’re here on... business.” 

“Business? Like… special business?” Makki asked, scratched his forearm with a hint of hesitation in his voice while looking back over at you.

“ _ special  _ business,” Mastukawa nodded, folding his own hands together while an awkward quiet lingeried between the three of you. You gulped, watching as Makki looked at Matsukawa with a petty look before stepping aside with a sigh. He muttered something about being  _ ‘lucky I'm so kind and gracious.’  _

You slipped off your shoes at the entrance, carefully setting them aside and Matsukawa did the same. He held a pleased grin on his face as he teased his friend, pointing out the new work outfit and how. 

Makki rolled his eyes, hissing: “do you want a place to stay, or not?” Matsukawa only laughed, knowing Makki wouldn’t kick the two of you out, but you unaware of their dynamic quickly stepped in. With a respectful bow, you apologized. 

“I’m sorry for Matsukawa-san, but please, we don’t really have anywhere else to go.” Your voice came off as a little squeak, only causing the two of them to burst out into a fit of laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, your eyes staring down at the floor trying not to make the situation worse. 

Mastukawa placed a hand on your shoulder, wiping away his tears and trying to contain his giggles. He straightened his back, letting you know it was alright. Makki, too, had stopped his chuckles, formally introducing himself. 

“Hanamaki Takahiro, friend’s call me Makki.” He bowed slightly and you followed his lead, bringing yourself to give your full name as well.

Hanamaki shuffled around the cramped hallway, calling out that he would clean a few things up. You stood there, almost frozen-- you didn’t know this man like Matsukawa did and you couldn’t help but to be tense. 

Matsukawa nudged you, a relaxed smile still on his lips. You looked up at him, curious what he had to say, 

“loosen up, y/n, Makki’s cool,” he started, leaning over just a bit to whisper it to you more quietly, “he knows.” 

_ He knows?  _ For a quick second, your mind was blank.  _ Know what?  _ A puzzled look plagued your face, trying to think of what exactly Matsukawa was talking about. It was frightening how long it took you to piece things together, Matsukawa laughing at the light bulb that seemed to go off inside your head. 

“I’ve gotta go for my shift, the couch is a pull out and there’s an air mattress somewhere in the closet.” Hanamaki explained, quickly making his way back, scratching the top of his head and checking his watch at the same time. “Also-- help yourselves to anything in the fridge.” 

The pink haired man shimmed in between the two of you to grab his own shoes, and hopped out of the threshold and closed the door behind him. Matsukawa turned back to you, gesturing for the two of you to get to the living room and start discussing the matter at hand. 

It was clear that Matsukawa had been in Hanamaki’s apartment before just based on how he swiftly walked through the cramped living space without any hesitation. 

The apartment itself was definitely nothing special, littered paperwork and empty take out containers. There was nothing decorating the walls, little to no furniture and small windows that barely let in any sunlight. The main sitting room consisted of the pull up couch Hanamaki had mentioned, a coffee table, a television and a walkway to his kitchen. From there, the apartment broke off into a hallway, where you assumed the bedroom and bathroom was. 

“You brought the books from the van, right?” He asked while sitting himself down on the couch. You nodded, sitting down a cushion down from him. Matsukawa smiled, “good.” You silently passed him the bag as he pulled one out, flipping through it carefully. 

You could see his lips moving, you could hear the gist of everything he was saying but all your other senses were distracted by the smell. It was so bizarre, you could smell his cologne in this messy apartment better than when you two were in the car, maybe it was the fact the smell stood out so much? But  _ god,  _ Matsukawa smelled good. You didn’t know how he managed to work with morticians chemicals less than twenty four hours earlier and still capture your attention like that. 

You swallowed your thoughts, turning back to him as he pointed out another section of the book, “- which means in order to rebuild these hypothetical gates, we’d need some sort of, um, what’s the work, a  _ key  _ of sorts.” You blinked, your brain feeling a bit fuzzy. 

“Do you think you could say that again?” You confessed, staring at him with wide eyes. Matsukawa chuckled, leaning back a little bit and you noticed that you’d moved closer to him. Either he didn’t notice it or he just chose not to mention it. You hoped for the first option. 

“That if these gates are falling, it would be caused by an imbalance of celestial power. Which would cause evil spirits to escape these ‘gates’ and they’d create terror throughout our dimension.” You felt a chill run up your spin as he further explained, “so to keep those gates from crumbling we’d need to collect relics, keys of sorts to keep them together.” 

He showed you the pages of the book he was looking at and you noticed all the drawings of hypothetical gates and mindless scribbles, pondering on the location of said gates. You watch Matsukawa again as his Adam's apple bobs while he gulps. 

There’s an off look in his eyes and as you make eye contact you can only assume you have the same one. He carefully shuts the book, putting on the coffee table, rubbing his hands together while he finds himself deep in thought. 

  
“Depending on the situation I’d say we have about eight months until the end of the world,” he sternly stated. Your stomach drops as you sarcastically reply, “ _ great.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love me a good mattsun back story (we love you makki). also love me writing about the reader lowkey simping for matsukawa.


	5. dead man's journal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter feels a bit slow pace and i felt so drained writing it so i apologize if it's not the best. for the same reason, i might've missed any grammatical or spelling errors, i apologize for that too.

You and Mastukawa had spent a couple of hours scanning through the books that you’d brought along, absorbing information as best you could. Though, your small impromptu psychic study session came to a stop when Matsukawa leaned back with a yawn. 

He hadn’t been given the luxury of napping during the car ride to Tokyo like you had, so you understood that he too needed to sleep. Although, he did try to wave it off so the two of you could continue researching the upcoming threat but you insisted on waiting until tomorrow. 

The two of you had found leftover pizza in Hanamaki’s fridge, having a light dinner and the fast food making you even more tired. You the two of you had eaten in silence but you didn’t really mind. 

Matsukawa scratched the back of his head, stretching his long limbs and heading to the closet where Hanamaki had claimed the air mattress to be stored in. You watched him from a close distance as he raked through the different items that had been tucked away. 

“I don’t mind sleeping on the air mattress.” You mention, observing over Matsukawa’s shoulder as he pulled out a box containing the air mattress. To your comment he only grunted, shaking his head. 

“Don’t be silly-- take the couch.” He insisted, taking it out and connecting the pump to the deflated mattress. You crossed your arms over your chest, skeptically looking back and forth between the unmade ‘bed’ and the air mattress. 

“No,  _ you’re _ being silly, you won’t be comfortable with your legs falling off the edge of the mattress.” You huffed, seeing as how the air mattress wasn’t as long as the pull out couch and how Matsukawa’s legs were longer than yours, it didn’t seem right. 

Matsukawa, on a similar note, was just as stubborn as you, pouting his lip at the thought of him taking the bed. He continuously shook his head, standing up at the fully inflated makeshift bed. 

He barely argued, which made your efforts of giving up the pull out couch. He set the air mattress next to the couch, the only open space available in the small room. Matsukawa fixed his posture, placing his hands on his hip before removing the cushions from the couch, ordering you to slide the coffee table towards the wall. You followed his instructions, observing as he opened up the pull out couch. 

“I think Makki has spare sheets in the linen closet, one second.” He brushed his hands against his slacks as he slipped away. You were left alone, scanning the room for something for your mind to fixate on. 

Sitting on the t.v stand was a small picture frame, with four people standing, each of them holding a diploma. Taking a closer inspection, you recognized Matsukawa out of the bunch. Although he looked a bit different, his features were still very similar. Those sleepy eyes, and the same black hair, only in that picture they were shorter and choppier. 

You also noticed that to his left was a younger version of Hanamaki, whose bangs were much higher up on his face. You thought about how both of their current haircuts suited them much better. 

Your attention was then directed towards the other boys in the picture, both of them a bit shorter than Matsukawa and Hanamaki. The four of them all had grinning smiles on their face and it was clear they were all good friends. You pressed your lips together, thinking of how you barely knew anything about Matsukawa’s personal life. 

Matsukawa reentered the room, drawing you out of your thoughts. In his arms he carried a few sheets fit for both the air mattress and the pull out couch. Together, the two of you put together your beds for the night and in less than thirty minutes you’d changed into the pyjamas you brought along. 

Laying under the blanket, and moving your hands under your head and pillow, you rested on your side. From where you were, you could watch Matsukawa slip under his own covers on the air mattress, you still felt a twinge of guilt seeing him squirm to get comfortable. 

Your train of thought managed to go back to the picture frame on the t.v stand and how Hanamaki had referred to him earlier. 

“Mattsun?” Was what Hanamaki had called him and you were curious to see if he would respond to it. To your slight surprise, he hummed in reply. “How come Hanamaki-san calls you that?” Matsukawa chuckled, 

“it was my nickname during high school,” he sighed fondly, “my volleyball captain during my third year gave it to me, he gave us all these funny nicknames.” He placed his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling and then to you. 

“I never knew you played volleyball,” you disclosed and he nodded, explaining the position he played, how the captain that gave them nicknames was pursuing volleyball in Argentina. 

“But he was kinda a shitty guy y’know, we weren’t allowed to have anyone watch our practices because he had this swarm of fangirls.” You laughed with him, being able to revisit his high school memories, it was such a simple yet intimate moment it left a permanent smile on his face. 

“Was your team any good?” You ask, with a bit of a giggle. Matsukawa’s nose scrunches and he sighs again, this time shrugging his shoulders. 

“I think we were better than what people gave us credit for.” He said, closing his eyes for a brief second before reopening them, “I thought we were gonna make it to nationals during our third year, but things happen.” You nodded with his words, hearing a hint of sadness in his tone. 

Matsukawa rolled over on his side and prompted himself up to look at you. The two of you didn’t say anything, merely smiling at each other, waiting to see who would break the silence first. It was Matsukawa. 

“What about you, where were you before you were, well _here?_ ” He wondered, causing you to press your lips together and subconsciously exhale. You shifted, laying down on your back looking at the popcorn ceiling. You fidgeted with your fingers and it was clear that Matsukawa picked up on it as he didn’t pry any further. 

“It’s alright,” he stated, yawning, “you can tell me about it another day...goodnight.” You whispered goodnight back, slowly closing your eyes and bringing the blanket closer to you. 

𓇽

“Let me see if I got this right: religion is a pile of shit, all that matters is the positive and negative forces that those prayers go to?” You wake up to the sound of Hanamaki speaking in the kitchen and as you look down to where the air mattress is you infer that it’s Matsukawa that he’s talking to. 

“Right. So if you have people giving their prayers to say the Christan God, it’s considered a positive energy. If someone were to pray to Satan, they’d be enforcing a negative energy.” Matsukawa continued the statement. Rubbing your eyes, you recalled this as something you learned the night before. Matsukawa proceeds with the explanation, “it’s not a perfect system but basically if you have people giving their souls up to a negative energy the balance is thrown off and the thing that keeps everything in order-- in this case the gates of the underworld-- will break.” 

When you walked into the kitchen Hanamaki’s face had become pale at the words Matsukawa just spoke and milk spilt over his spoon as he ate cereal. You understood the reaction, you’d felt a similar thing when you learned about the world as you knew it possibly coming to an end. 

Matsukawa twisted his body around, greeting you with a smile and a  _ ‘good morning.’  _ You addressed both the men and sat down in the extra chair. You rested your cheek on your fist, still a bit tired. 

“I hope you like froot loops-” Hanamaki chimed, getting up and strolling into the cabinets to pull out a bowl. You didn’t really care at this point and you knew that Hanamaki was never going to offer you a gourmet breakfast so you simply nodded.    
  


Hanamaki poured the sugary cereal out of the box and into a bowl, following that up by pouring the milk over. You watched hazily as you felt yourself about to yawn. 

“Sleep well?” Matsukawa asked, with his own bowl of cereal in front of him. You nodded, about to speak but interrupted by Hanamaki placing your breakfast down in front of you. You thanked him, playing around with the colorful o’s. 

“So what’re your plans for today?” Makki wonders between bites. This is when you look towards Mastukawa, expecting him to answer. He cleared his throat, “well, we’re going to go to Izumi Ryo’s work place and find out any information about his life. There’s a good chance he’d keep some type of record of his cult and that’s where we can hopefully stop anyone else from selling their souls.” 

In your opinion, it sounded like a solid plan and Hanamaki agreed, nodding his head. You continued to stir around the cereal, preoccupied with thinking of what was to come. 

There were so many things that would need to happen in order to prevent the end of the world. Matsukawa had only really given Hanamaki the tip of the iceberg information wise. From what the two of you had discussed the keys that the two of you were looking for could be physically manifested as anything, but most likely something natural like a gemstone. You figured out that they’d all show up in Japan, or at least that was what you and Matsukawa had hoped for. 

Less than an hour later, you were back on the road, giving your trust to Matsukawa as he drove to your first stop of the day. He’d mentioned something earlier about how Izumi worked at some insurance company, or at least that’s what his folder said. 

The company was in the suburbs of Tokyo, on a fairly quiet road and it was a modern looking five story building. It was next to a few other independent buildings and looking at the people who were heading in, it didn’t seem like somewhere a cult member would work. 

“Let’s get our story straight,” Matsukawa says, sitting back in his seat as the van is parked in a curbside parking place. “We’re going in as relatives of Izumi and we’re here to pick up any of his personal belongings, yeah?” You nodded, there was no reason for you to oppose the plan, although, you didn’t know if the people within the office would believe you. 

Matsukawa opened his own door first and you followed suit, straightening out your blouse as he held the glass door open for you. 

The first thing you saw was the receptionist as she smiled at the two of you, greeting you with a simple  _ welcome.  _ You nudged Matsukawa to go ask her about Izumi and he easily picked up on your hint. With a friendly grin, he leaned on the desk, resting his weight on one arm. 

“Hi there,” he started, “we’re cousins of Izumi Ryo, I don’t know if you heard but he passed the other day and our family sent us here to collect his things.” 

You had never noticed how charming Matsukawa really was, sure he was nice around you but you could never really pick up if tried to flirt with you. But now, it was clear how he had an affect on people. You figured that overall, the way he presented himself was enough to make anyone swoon: nice clothes, charismatic expressions and a hushed, low voice. 

The receptionist looked at him with saddened eyes but it was clear she was more interested in Matsukawa. 

“That’s a shame,” her voice was distant, and kind of cold. There was no ‘ _ sorry for your loss _ ’ that you were expecting, nor did she ask about how he died. “He’s only really been with the company for the last, oh I don’t know, five months. I’m not even sure if he has any personal items.” 

She then turns to look at you, a bit of a sneer on her face. There was a flicker of irradiation in her eyes as the two of you managed to make eye contact. The action left an unsettling feeling in the gut of your stomach. 

“That’s alright, we’ll just pick up anything he had,” Matsukawa replies, folding his hands on over the other. You still remain silent as she points in the direction of the elevator, explaining how to reach Izumi’s office on the third floor. 

This time it was you who led the way, feeling the burning eyes of the receptionist staring into you. You didn’t know why she seemed to have a problem with you but as the two of you stepped into the elevator you let out a huge sigh. 

“Is there anything we’re looking for in particular?” You wondered as the doors reopened, revealing the third floor cubicles that spread across the room like a maze. The two of you snaked your way through, stopping when you came across the cubicle with the name tag ‘ _ IZUMI RYO’  _

Matsukawa gets to work, looking through his things, which inevitably is only paperwork and a few candy wrappers. He grunts, unsuccessful and turns to watch as you run through a filing cabinet, your eyes lighting up at a discovery. 

“I think I found something…” Bringing it out of its hiding spot, it’s clear to Matsukawa what you were holding. 

It was a dark brown leather, with a string that kept it together. It’s spine looked disheveled slightly, like the owner wasn’t taking care of it well and on the face, in bold English letters, that word ‘ _ JOURNAL’  _ was written. 

Matsukawa smiled from ear to ear as the two of you had hit the jackpot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried my best to add a bit of plot into this and not make it feel like a filler chapter but yeah look at them bonding over mattsun's high school years :)

**Author's Note:**

> heyy, hope you liked the first chapter. more to come soon. :) plz comment any spelling mistakes, my sleep deprived eyes don't notice any as of now rip.


End file.
